Kiddos

First off, thank you to everyone who is commenting here, sending us messages in various formats, visiting, and generally holding us up.  I am at a loss for words to convey my appreciation.  Specifically, thank you to the anonymous benefactor who sent us a Cat in the Hat game for Stella, the George & Martha treasury, and Cards Against Humanity for entertainment during hospital visits.  Super cool!  

Now, on to the subject of my latest musings... our daughters.

In the past week and change, by virtue of necessity, I have been essentially attachment parenting Lydia. I and the Ergo are one. (Take that as a product endorsement. I'd be lost without it. Seriously.)

I definitely cuddled and held Stella a lot as a baby while I was on maternity leave, but, in retrospect, I had all this time to do tummy time with her, go to mom's groups, go on walks, and so forth.  I was focused on my "to do" list, and now, that has been pretty much chucked out the window.

So, by contrast, Lydia is just hanging out with me. She gets tummy time sporadically and instead of taking detailed notes of every feeding and every nap, she and I just roll with the punches.

Some of these differences in parenting come from the drama and challenges we are facing, to be sure. But I'm also struck by just how differently I am approaching parenthood the second time around. This time I am far less anxious. And this time my baby is far more calm and even-tempered.

It's a classic chicken or the egg question. Is Lydia cool as a cucumber because I am more relaxed? Or am I more relaxed because she is so chill (for an infant)?  [Side note:  knock on wood that I am not jinxing her good behavior by commenting on it here...] 'm sure it's a little from column A and a little from column B, but boy am I thankful for this little delightful creature.

I also wonder how, assuming some of this pattern is typical for parenting the first time vs. subsequent time(s) around, how much these differences in nurture account for classic differences in siblings depending on birth order.  Hmm.

In other ways too, Lydia (and Stella) are keeping me grounded. Bedtime has been a battle with Stella lately, so that sucks, but, she is also so fun and funny even in tough times. And Lydia is still nursing all the time so that rhythm keeps me focused on very tangible needs and in the present moment.

A lot of people have sent me great encouragement to "stay in the moment" and, surprisingly, these sometimes stressful chicas are my best reminders of that.

I will close with a quote my friend Mary (who also kicked cancer's butt!) sent me. I think it's pertinent for all of us, all the time.

How we approach our not knowing what comes next is what gives meaning to our life. When we wholeheartedly surrender into our not knowing with what is referred to as “don’t know mind” an openness and vulnerability to deeper and deeper truth rises from our inborn unknown wisdom. What is exposed seems somehow already so deeply known yet the surprise of its diamond clarity overwhelms one with humility and gratitude.  In that stillness, in that space between breaths, between thoughts, between lives, something is suddenly remembered. Something it seems impossible to ever have forgotten . And in every fiber of our Being we know that love is the only rational act of a lifetime.  – Stephen Levine

Diagnosis

Team Miner:

Everyone but David and Jeff (thank God!) in the immediate Miner crew has caught Stella's cold.  I basically didn't sleep last night, so I will keep this quick and factual.

The doctors are certain that Jeff has a class of diffuse large B-cell lymphoma (that is sometimes called "DLBCL").  This is a type of "non-Hodgkins lymphoma."  The main tumor is in his chest (which is called "mediastinal").  There are also tumors in his liver, near his sacrum in his lower back, and in some lymph nodes.  There is cancer in his bone marrow as well.  Fortunately, there is no cancer in his brain or spinal fluid.

More details on a specific type of DLBCL might possibly emerge when the pathologists complete staining the cells from his most recent biopsy.  His "baby" chemo starts tonight, for a chemo regimen called R-EPOCH, and any additional details from genotyping (the further stains) will not really change his treatment.

Although this felt like the world's worst roller coaster for those of us who adore Jeff, the doctors have assured us that once they got the second biopsy, the diagnosis was clear.  For me, this is starting to make sense.  I was just very naive going into this and thought that cancer came in forms easily associated with organs, like you have breast cancer, lung cancer, period.  Medicine is - thankfully - far more advanced.  And we can be grateful that the treatment Jeff will receive will be as closely tailored to his particular situation as possible.

It is likely that Jeff will be in the hospital for the next two to three weeks.  Then he will get some time off  from chemo, which he will hopefully spend at home, if he and we are healthy enough.  After that he will undergo five to seven additional rounds of chemo.  This will last several months in approximate cycles of every three weeks.  We are not moving to Kentucky in August.  Our plan is to move to Bowling Green in a year.  [Note:  Stella does not know this, or any of these details.]

Pray for Jeff that he will feel as well and as healthy as possible given all of the drugs that are getting pumped into his body.  Pray that the cancer will DIE DIE DIE.  And pray for his spirits.  He is incredibly courageous and strong and I want him, more than anything, to feel loved and supported through this fight.

We also know now that Jeff's primary treating doctors will be Dr. Ai and Dr. Logan.  Pray for them and that they would treat Jeff will all possible care and wisdom in the coming months.

Also, personal politics aside, I was cheered to know that Former Senator Bob Dole - BOB FLIPPING DOLE - is praying for Jeff.  Pretty cool.

This is going to be a long and uncertain road.  We'll be updating our "Lotsa" site for help and so appreciate all the assistance, tangible and spiritual, that we are already receiving.

Katina

Lonesome Valleys

Team Miner:

A disclaimer. I wrote the majority of this post on my phone in the middle of the night while nursing Lydia.  It may be more riddled with typos than usual.  

There's this spiritual we sing sometimes at church that has been on my mind:

Jesus walked this lonesome valley.
He had to walk it by Himself;
O, nobody else could walk it for Him,
He had to walk it by Himself. 

We must walk this lonesome valley,
We have to walk it by ourselves;
O, nobody else can walk it for us,
We have to walk it by ourselves. 

You must go and stand your trial,
You have to stand it by yourself,
O, nobody else can stand it for you,
You have to stand it by yourself.

You may be thinking - jeez, what a downer, we need to intervene with Katina stat, In one sense, you're not wrong. I am benefiting greatly from all the support I'm getting via emails and messages (even though I mostly can't respond to them).  So keep that coming.  I also have some tangible needs for help, e.g., at bedtime with the girls, which are emerging. Though Emily is still able to help, Megajohn was here last night, and my mom arrives Friday.  All in all, the ways in which our community is stepping up right now have me completely floored. And grateful.

But despite this outpouring of support and a very real feeling that we are not facing this alone, these verses also emphasize the fact that each of us is grappling with Jeff's illness in our own way.  Whether we are his wife, daughter, sister, parent, cousin, friend... this is hitting us differently depending on our personal circumstances.  We have to walk our particular road alone. 

So, I am trying to use this observation to cultivate empathy - and return some of the kindness I am being shown to others.  This awareness reaches beyond my immediate situation too. I am still the same abnormally impatient person you all know me to be, but I'm recognizing that you just never ever know what some random person on the street is facing in their life. Thus, I'm trying to be understanding and think of other people first. Even when asshats in pickup trucks cut me off on my drive to the hospital or someone says something that is inadvertently insensitive. 

My other more immediate and crucial insight here relates directly to Jeff. We are still waiting for a final diagnosis and so is he (duh). So I will spare you the details of the medical speculation that we are holding in our hearts.  And it is his body that is starting to really hurt, his body that is constantly poked, prodded, and biopsied. And he is the one who gets the un-coveted prize of starting chemo once the diagnosis is finally in. His road is most certainly passing through a valley now and the journey that is to come is going to be a challenge. So please please keep him in your thoughts and prayers.  Send him strength and courage.

Go team!

Katina

Help a Brother Out

Team Miner:

Emily helped set up a site to coordinate all the offers of assistance that we are receiving.  Go to https://www.lotsahelpinghands.com/c/704235/join/.  This is a private site, you'll have to log in and explain how you know us and we'll screen you.  Consider yourself a member of a very exclusive club...

Right now, the activities are San Francisco-centric:  visit Jeff, bring him and us dinner, and watch the girls so I can make it to Pilates once a week.  But be not dismayed those in faraway lands!  The glories of the Internet can provide ways for you to help too.  For instance, some visiting with Jeff could take place on Skype?  Perhaps there's a way to play bridge or euchre online?  So please feel free to contact me via e-mail and I can help dream up other ideas if need be.

This site is a work in progress, so stay tuned.

Thank you all so much,

Katina

Testing.. testing...

I'm going to start addressing these posts to Team Miner.  I believe you're all on Jeff's team.  I'll start now.

Team Miner:

Today has been tough.  Poor Stella has an ear infection.  In the grand scheme of things, not a big deal, but these little things kind of add up to make you feel like there's a nasty black cloud over your entire family.  And, still, uncertainty is the only way to describe Jeff's diagnosis.  He's undergoing some more tests today (hence the title of this post).  I knew from watching some episodes of "House" back in the day that (apparently) diagnostics often come down to the process of elimination, but I'm tired, really really tired of waiting.  I'm extremely glad that we have Robin and Emily here or I would be utterly falling apart.

I haven't had time to update the website we'll be using to coordinate support and care.  Hopefully I will do so soon.  I know that the visits Jeff has received have been very helpful for his spirits, and mine, since I can't be with him nearly as much as I would like to be.

It is blowing my mind to think of where we were a week ago.  Last Monday, we took Lydia to her two month doctors' appointment together.  Then I dropped him off at BART and he went to  Berkeley, met with students and was out and about.  He came home from work tired at the end of the day and laid down immediately.

When he woke up, I was pissed because I felt like I had had a tough day dealing with an unusually fussy Lydia after her two month vaccinations.  I emoted (aired my grievances) and Jeff was so understanding.  On the one hand, I'm glad I did because I think my frustration with his symptoms of tiredness, fatigue, and shortness of breath (maybe) got him into the doctor sooner.  On the other hand, I'd do anything right now to take back any harsh words I've ever said to him.

Be kind to the people you love, and GO TEAM.

What did we do before the Internet? Seriously?

Thank you World Wide Web and http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/horatio%20caine.

Sitting in Limbo

Sunday has been kind of slow, no medical developments, but we had the pleasure of several visitors. Thanks, friends.

The major downer today was that Stella has what appears to be a typical cold.  The type that she and every preschooler on God's green earth seem to have about 75% of the time.  Unfortunately, anyone with even as much as a cold is not permitted to visit Jeff's wing of the hospital.  Of course this makes sense.  I would not want to compromise Jeff's health or the health of any of the immuno-compromised residents of his floor.  I would hope that if/when Jeff needs to be more protected from normal little bugs, every other visitor on the floor would be just as cautious and considerate.  

But, if the estimates we received for the duration of chemo back when we thought Jeff had T-ALL end up to be accurate for whatever the ultimate diagnosis turns out to be, over the course of seven plus months of chemo, Stella and Jeff will simply not see much of each other.  We haven't talked about duration with Stella, in part because we don't know much, and are just taking this day by day with her, but the prospect of enduring separation like that is somewhat harrowing.  Thank God for Skype, I guess.

While I'm on the subject of hospital visiting guidelines - you must check in at the nurses' station and be truly healthy in order to see Jeff.  They'll screen you if they suspect you are ill.  And the number of visitors is also limited to two (give or take if the nurse is lenient) per room.  So bring a book or something to do, because you might have to wait a little in the guest lounges before you get to see the Zebra himself.  

The last thing I feel like sharing tonight is that I feel very thankful to be a parent these days.  Those of you who know Stella know her to be one spunky kiddo.  That has not changed.  Her silly spirit is especially endearing these days.  Unprompted, she re-instituted our before-bedtime dance parties which are so fun.  Her newest moves are "penguin spin" and "double roll the dice while hopping on one foot."  Usually her tongue is sticking out for the AMAZING dice rolling move.  

And Lydia, meanwhile, is more or less angelic.  Yes, she urped a huge volume of milk all over me this evening.  Yes she woke me up with a massive poop-explosion this morning, but these mundane baby events are keeping me focused on what matters.  And in the meantime, she is smiling more every day, she nearly rolled over today, and she cuddles.  Oh does she cuddle.

More later.  Love to all of you.

Jeff is a Zebra

[Thank you to Emily for explaining the science-y parts below.]

In contrast to yesterday, today was moderately uneventful.  Far fewer procedures, far fewer doctor visits.  Probably some of what we might come to expect for a weekend day spent at UCSF.  Jeff got to read a book with Stella and color some dinosaurs.  That was awesome.

When I was thinking about titles for this post, a close second to the one I went with was, "The Waiting Is the Hardest Part" - which you have to wail like Tom Petty while reading to get the full effect.  But here's the deal, and the explanation for the title I chose.

On Wednesday, the doctors - mind you the best in their field - were quite certain Jeff had T-ALL leukemia or lymphoma.  Translation (for folks like me):  blood cancer, in T-cells.  Then, as of yesterday (Thursday)  afternoon, that was in question and for a brief moment there seemed to be a chance that he had two DIFFERENT types of cancerous cells.  Fortunately, Occam's Razor prevailed quickly, and at the end of the day yesterday, it looked like the flow cytometry (laser test) results would confirm a B-cell leukemia diagnosis.

Well... it turns out that Jeff looks like a horse:  he has four legs, a majestic mane, a swift gallop,etc, but if you describe him with just those features, you miss the fact that he is no roan or palomino, but is striped and exotic.  He is... a zebra.  (This is Jeff's analogy.)

The reason my dear husband is so similar to a zebra is that, weirdly, the flow cytometry results came back totally normal.  This suggests that the cancer cells are fragile and when prepared for the flow cytometry, the cells got broken up by the laser and therefore couldn't be identified.  So whatever cells were left were normal.  As a result, those pesky, nasty cells are still evading full detection.  Now, the docs are not quite sure that a B cell process is the culprit after all.  We are back to square one:  might be germ cell cancer, could turn out to be a weird variety of B or T cell leukemia or lymphoma, could be a sarcoma.  They are going to stain more cell samples, which takes time, but will provide a single diagnosis.  We should know by "Tuesday or Wednesday."

My reaction to this news was pure anger.  WTF?  Seriously.  I would really, really like to know what this is.  The brightest oncologist/pathologist brains are throwing their brainy brainy waves at all of Jeff's results yet days into this ordeal, we are still in the dark.  This was not my best moment of the week.

But, calmer minds prevailed.  Thanks primarily to Jeff's incredibly rational and even-keeled logic, Emily's persuasion, and Ricky's help, I now understand (and actually even believe) the following.

1. Waiting for the right diagnosis is not causing any detrimental delay in treatment.  All of Jeff's labs are good.  He actually even feels pretty well.  Or not much worse than he did before last Tuesday.  
2. There is a chance that the ultimate diagnosis will have a better prognosis and less arduous treatment protocol than the ones we were moving towards previously.  
3. Starting treatment that is tailored for his disease is obviously best.  

So I am now moderately calm again, and throwing all my energy into hoping and praying for the best possible diagnosis (see #2).

I will say this, however, so I can rant a bit more.  Doctors SUCK at deadlines.  SUCK.  This is hard for me to understand as a defense attorney.  Of course Plaintiffs' counsel can get away with pushing dates back, but if a brief is due, or if a discovery cut off is coming and you miss that deadline, you are screwed.

Now I realize that we are dealing with living cells here, nefarious, unusual ones to boot, and testing processes that take time, and hospital scheduling, and the list goes on.  But I cannot get used to these delays.  Thus, I am resetting my expectations, per the advice of many doctor friends and kind nurses.  I am now expecting more news by say Thursday or Friday of next week.  And that is why, my friends, the "waiting is the hardest part."  For me at least.

In terms of where to send your thoughts and prayers, please pray for Jeff that he would rest and feel well.  Pray for the doctors that they would figure this puzzle out.  Pray for Stella - she is sad and misses Jeff a lot - especially at bedtime.  And pray for a happy ending to all of this.

I saw this one piece of calligraphy on Jeff's floor today and it resonated, so I'll sign off with this:

Cancer might rob you of that blissful ignorance
that once led you to believe that tomorrow stretched forever.
In exchange, you are granted the vision to see each today as precious,
a gift to be used wisely and richly.

More news on Jeff-o

I'm writing fast and am tired. And I am no scientist, so you are getting the high level, bullet point version here. Excuse the typos.

 So, today was a gauntlet (with apologies to medievalists who actually know what that means) for Jeff. He was heroic. Amazing. He underwent the alphabet soup of tests. It was intense. I may miss some but he had a PET scan, a bone marrow biopsy, EKGs, x-rays, an MRI, etc. And... we are still waiting for definitive results.

That said, it now seems quite certain that Jeff has a variety of B-cell leukemia or lymphoma. Specifics still to be determined after some tests pathologists will run with lasers (insert Dr. Evil voice here). We don't know any details about treatment other than that it will include chemo, it will be tough and last months, and it will start ASAP. We will share more as soon as we know. Please keep Jeff in your continued prayers and thoughts.

I also can't remember if I mentioned that we (as in me and the girls) have been ably and wonderfully supported by Emily and Robin the past couple days. I'm going to send out many calls for help, to be sure, but we are doing okay at the moment.

A lot of you may also be wondering about Stella and how she's taking things. Overall, I think she's coping remarkably well. It's been a doozy of a year and a hell of a week for her. I got to talk with an awesome child-life specialist from UCSF today and he had some excellent advice. We are trying to follow her lead in what to communicate to her (i.e., not saying, "well honey, there are blood cells and those cells are sick blah blah blah"), to speak to her in child-appropriate language, and to maintain as much of a sense of normalcy and routine as possible. If anyone has questions about how to interact with Stelly - please feel free to contact me directly.

Love to you all, sorry this grew so long.

Katina

 PS - Random alert: no flowers allowed on Jeff's new floor at UCSF.

Great Big Nasty News

Well, I haven't written anything here in several years. I think Stella was a zygote back then and now she's three and a half and Lydia is 2 months already.

So the craptastic news worth sharing is that on Tuesday we learned that Jeff has a mass in his chest. After a couple days in the hospital, we also know that it is cancer. I'll save more details for when we have a diagnosis, but we are waiting (and waiting) now to learn more as tests are run.

To spare people from direct e-mail updates, I'm going to attempt to update this blog regularly. Perhaps Jeff will make some guest appearances as well.  We welcome all communications (even if we don't manage to respond) and all prayers, vibes, thoughts etc. Perhaps I will re-learn basic html later to actually post heartwarming photos of cute babies and kids (well Lyddie-Biddie-Bum-Bum and Stelly), or link to hilarious YouTube videos and the like. Anything to make this more than a cancer blog.

 Now I will sign off to focus on sending violent killer thoughts to this cancer.

 Katina

Notable Differences Between Prague and Italy (specifically Rome)

We have arrived safely in Prague. We found ourselves in a very, very cold and rather sparse apartment, but it warmed up overnight (apparently the Prague city government decides when the heat works) and for something like $50/night, we are in luxurious quarters for the price. So far, we have not heeded our normal travel practices, which is to avoid restaurants where people greet you outside and to go to local coffee shops. I am writing this e-mail from a Starbucks (it has free WiFi). Last night we also ate at a deserted tourist restaurant. Nevertheless, the food was tasty (mmmm goulash and potato soup) and hearty and after our adventures leaving Rome at Fiumicino and our lack of food during travel, we were ravenous. More on the Fiumicino saga later at The Island of Misfit Toys.

Here are the notable differences we've observed so far:
1. No dog poop.
2. Colder. Much colder.
3. Less rainy.
4. Absence of lingerie stores.
5. More English speakers, or at least more English voluntarily spoken.
6. Crazier currency.
7. More monks, and dudes with guitars. Those are mutually exclusive categories, so far.
8. More messenger bags, possibly.
9. More knitting and crocheting in public. Woo hoo!!
10. ZERO scooters.
11. Praguers seem like "morning people."
12. And, last but not least, a general absence of popery.

Trattoria Da Maria

Having been thwarted twice in our attempts to eat at this establishment, Mr. Dirteens and I finally succeeded this evening. Italian restaurants don't always have posted hours and they are often open odd hours, when they are, in fact, open. These temperamental and unpredictable hours cause me to build up a lot of anticipation and hope for delicious food. Trattoria Da Maria did not disappoint.

When we walked in, the place was kind of grimy. It looks like a school cafeteria, with glossy mint colored walls and the tables are covered with standard plastic red-and-white checked tablecloths. At 7:30 PM - super early for the Ligurian dining set - the place was already quite crowded. We sat on the second floor, which was serviced by two tweeny (and teeny) waitresses. The kitchen is on the first floor, so the waitresses yell orders down the dumbwaiter.

Our menus arrived very promptly. I assume they are written by "Maria," and the handwriting is quite unintelligible. Before we had a chance to look through the whole menu (Primi, Secondi, Contorni(?), and Dolci), our waitress asked if we were "pronti?" Not being ready, and as we were fumbling a bit for the Italian necessary to continue conversing in her native language, she switched to English and we pulled out an order for two minestrone alla Genovese. Dang. It was phenomenal. The cannellini beans lent a creamy texture to the soup, the parmesan was peppery, it was... pestolicious.

For round two, we took our waitresses recommendations and Mr. Dirteens partook of the "Stoccafisso." This dish consists of Ligurians taking some dried out cod, soaking it, and adding potatoes and olives. While the fish remains quite chewy, it is more delicious than it sounds. Quite tasty actually. I had the "Polpettone" It has the texture of a fish cake, and is formed like a large patty, encrusted with cornmeal or flour. Some websites describe it as a meatloaf, and that is quite accurate. However, the polpettone is lighter than most meatloaves and it is vegetarian, at least at Da Maria. Apparently, Ligurians make their version of polpettone most often on the weekends. Don't ask me why, this website just says so. In any event, the combination of vegetable, potato, cheese, and egg, was scrumptious.

Having enjoyed our waitress's recommendations, we also permitted her to choose our desserts. We were a little crestfallen when she brought out identical desserts, since it would have been nice to sample two different creations, but at practically the first bite, we were too drunk to care. From what we could tell, the desserts were a very simplistic tiramisu, absolutely drenched in marsala. I'm almost feel a little tipsy just reflecting on that first boozy bite.

In the end, this fantastic meal (we skipped wine) only set us back 21 euro!! I almost regret posting that price since I fear that the restaurant will learn how good it is and hike up the prices. Chances of that happening are mercifully slim however, since we learned during our visit, that Mark Bittman has already listed this place as one of his "favorite restaurants in the world." Chow.

Two Things to Know about Genoa

1. Allegedly, jeans originated in Genoa (bleu de Genes en francais, minus accent marks that I cannot locate on this computer). While this legend may or may not be true, my spouse and I stopped by a very intriguing exhibit about jeans, in one form at least, at the Museum of the Archdiocese of Genoa. Most of what was contained in the Archdiocese's museum was similar to that which we observed in the Museum of the Treasures of the Cathedral of San Lorenzo (also visited yesterday). Generally, the museums contained (dubious) relics, including one that portended to contain hair from the Virgin Mary and another that supposedly contained the ashes of St. John the Baptist! All of these relics were flashy and gilded. As my spouse put it - virtually all of the objects were contenders for "King of Bling" - a little known award bestowed upon gaudy church relics dating from the Renaissance by one medieval scholar.

In any event, the exhibit we saw distinct from the other artifacts in the galleries. The exhibit was called "The Blue of Genoa" and consisted of about a dozen large paintings on denim fabric. The scenes detailed the passion of Christ and were extraordinarily detailed, considering that the artist only painted with white tempera on the cloth. The one exception to the white/blue color scheme was on a painting of "La Flagellazione" (Italian for "The Flagellazione") where the portions of Christ's body that were taking the worst beating had what appeared to be real dried blood on them. This was rather more realistic than how most icons I've seen in the past few days depicted blood, so I found it somewhat jarring. The scale of these paintings was rather huge. From the way the fabric was cut, it looked like the tapestry-like results would have been displayed from various portions of a cathedral, perhaps during holy week. All in all, this was a great exhibition - if you get the chance to go, don't forget to look at the ceiling...

2. Focaccia. Wow. They say Genoese focaccia is the bomb, and it is. On the way back from the archive today we stopped for a bite and it was crispy but tender inside, oily and salty, and some bites seemed to melt away in my mouth. Given that the weather has still been quite chilly, I have not yet bitten the bullet and tried gelato here. That might have to wait for the warmer climate in Rome. I wonder if they'll have focaccia flavored gelato there?

A Room (Without) A View

Shortly after returning to Genoa from Florence, I saw the article in the NYT about touring the city as though it were 100 years ago from the perspective of E.M. Forster. Now, I can't say I've read Forster's novel, but the city is indeed crowded with tourists. Despite the crowds, I enjoyed our short stay and am glad we made the journey. Here's what we did:

Friday: We attempted to leave Genoa at 13:00, but due to the incredibly crappy weather, and corresponding train delays, we left at closer to 14:00. To give you an idea of how bad the weather was, Jeff and I had hoped to take a picture of the discarded umbrellas absolutely littering the streets, but it was too cold and too wet for us to even stop to do so. My hands were chilled to the bone after a ten minute walk to the station. Fortunately, our little travel umbrellas are stronger than what the umbrella salesmen sell all over Genoa, so we were able to withstand the winds and brave the rain.

On the train, we transferred at Pisa and saw some lovely (if rainy) Ligurian coast land and Tuscan countryside. We got to Florence in time to check in to our hotel right around 17:00 - only about 30 minutes later than expected. We got a surprisingly nice room for the money we spent (only 65 euro) at Hotel Cestelli. Our room was massive - about 4 times the size of the Genovese room in which we currently live. The bed was also about 4 times as large as the Genovese bed. Aside from the spaciousness, the room was also nicely decorated and the innkeepers - who are Japanese and Italian but met in San Diego - were very, very nice. The room did not, however, come with a view. Our window looked out directly across an alleyway into an industrial-sized kitchen of some local restaurant.

After resting for a bit, we went for a walk around Ponte Vecchio and to Santa Croce where we met up with our amigo CT (name redacted out of courtesy for the fact that said friend dislikes having an Internet presence) and his girlfriend, visiting from Stanford. Thanks to a surly waiter, we had a nice glass of wine from San Gimignano (where CT and his novia had spent Thanksgiving), and then we went to Osteria de'Benci for some... peculiar, but good food for dinner. Once again, the wine was excellent and the cheese plate was incredibly tasty. I have to remember to pair cheese with honey more often when I get home. The primi we ordered (apart from Jeff's pretty traditional round penne-esque pasta with meat sauce) were the strange part of the meal. CT's girlfriend got strawberry risotto - an unexpected pairing, but savory and yummy. CT and I both ordered one of the restaurant's specialties - homemade spaghetti cooked in red wine. The first bite was pretty captivating, but then I think the taste became a little overwhelming. Jeff and I split our secondi - the MASSIVE carbonata di chianina . The waiter brought out a few slabs of steak for us to choose from and we had to send them back until we got one that was just 1 kg. We weren't able to finish the steak, and while I can say with a good degree of certainty that this was an authentically Tuscan experience, I cannot say that I ever want to eat that much of rather charred, yet undercooked meat again. The meal pretty much destroyed us and we were so exhausted that we returned to the hotel immediately afterward.


Saturday - After grabbing a brioche and cafe for breakfast, we started waiting in line for the Uffizi galleries - along with almost every other tourist in Florence. Observing no movement in the line, we called for a reservation, and left for the Duomo. It was amazing. We got tickets to go all the way up to the cupola and the experience was breathtaking - both because of the long climb up several hundred stairs, and because of the frescos, and the views. It may be crowded, but if you find yourself in Florence, go to the Duomo.* Following the Duomo, we went to La Canova di Gustavino for lunch. It was one of the best meals ever. Once I can finally post pictures, I'll explain then.

We walked around for a while longer after lunch, stopped in some bookstores, looked at some churches, and then arrived at the Uffizi. As Mr. FGFC astutely observed, only in Italy, does one pay more for reservations, and then wait in line at the reserved entrance when the other line is moving... [Also, only in Italy are people confused by ATMs to quite the degree of Italians when confronted by a Bancomat. Seriously, these folks are SLOW... and the machine's first language is Italian. What gives?] The Uffizi had some famous art - most notably, the Birth of Venus - but overall the galleries are poorly organized and overcrowded. When we were about ready to call it quits for our visit, we stopped off in a special exhibit of 13th and 14th century Florentine art. This exhibit, in contrast to the rest of the space, was properly curated, cohesive, and fascinating. I loved many of the paintings salvaged from churches - particularly those detailing the lives of the saints - and the relic of San Someone... It contained the saints entire radius AND ulna.

Following a rest back at the hotel, we found an Internet cafe. The proprietor had a dog and was even more surly than the waiter at the wine bar. I'll let Mr. FGFC tell that story. The Internet trip was successful and after walking around some more, looking at more old stuff, we met CT for dinner again at a pizzeria popular with the locals. The pizza was quite good as was the cheap house wine and the desserts - I had panna cotta with frutti di bosce. We lingered and chatted over dinner and then returned again to the hotel for a second blissful night of sleep in the humongous bed.

Sunday: On Sunday, it was raining again. Tant pis for the marathoners - it was the Firenze marathon, in addition to being our last day in Florence. We had only a little time before our train was scheduled to leave at 11:30, so we dropped off our bagagli at the train station and grabbed breakfast and looked at more art. At the left luggage station, I saw my first visibly crazy Italian person. Since then, I've seen the dude who wears CDs around his neck several times in Genoa, but this was my first crazy man in Firenze. He was wearing (p)leather pants, lots of jewelry, and seemed to camp out in the left luggage station all day to chat with the gentlemen who worked there.

For our last day, we decided to go the Galleria dell'Accademia, home of the David. Security at the Galleria was considerably more lax than at the Uffizi. No questions about my knitting needles here. Compared to the Uffizi, the Galleria wins, hands down. The collection is more manageable. David is really huge. His hands and feet are especially imposing, but what they say about big feet is not borne out with David. I read somewhere, that apparently, true to size wangs were not considered artistically appropriate or polite back in the day. Once again, the one exhibit of Florentine art at the Galleria was our favorite part of this museum. The vibrant colors of some of the religious triptychs were astounding as were the depictions of the passion and the emotions of the saints.

We pretty much headed straight back to the train station after the Galleria so there is little else to report. Since this has been my longest blog post ever and my dear spouse needs the computer, I'll sign off here.

* If you have a serious fear of heights or are prone to intense bouts of claustrophobia, skip it only then.

Firenze

We are in Florence, where keyboards have oddly placed shift keys.

So far we have seen the Duomo, the Uffizi Galleries, and had a truly phenomenal meal. Jeffàs best in Italy so far (mine too).

Now we are off to meet Corey for some pizza, more updates later.

First Dinner in Genoa

The internet - named "alice" - or as Jeff says, "ah-lee-chay," does not like to work in his apartment. He and I are thus unable to post pictures of my first dinner in Italy and of his Fibonacci scarf. Fibonacci, incidentally, was Italian and may have been from Pisa. What an appropriate scarf pattern.

Despite the inability to post pictures, I will, as promised, write a bit about our meal. We went to a place called "I Tre Merli," which means "three blackbirds." [Jeff's dictionary said "zoo. blackbird" - but apparently "zoo" is just an abbreviation for zoological.]

Our meal started with a nice aperitif of a crisp, sparkling, white wine. Jeff and I both thought it was pretty tasty. We ordered a cheese plate to start. Having been burned by the tiny cheese plate selections in some SF restaurants, I was expecting a small portion, but this was a MASSIVE (Jeff says "substantial") cheese platter. One was delicious and truffle-y and spotted and somewhat grey, one was creamy and blue, one was somewhat harder and might have had mushrooms in it, one was somewhat soft and tangy and white, and one was a little creamy and also delicious. All of them were scrumptious actually and they were served with yummy bread, mustard, honey, and walnuts.

For the primi - I had some hazelnut lasagna noodles with pesto and potatoes and green beans. Very good, very filling. I thought the pesto was excellent, but mostly unintelligible as authentically "Genoese." Jeff had ravioli with "cheesy and maybe some fishy stuff" along with mussels on top with tomatoes. The mussels were bombtastic. Jeff convinced me to order a secondi - which was FAR too much food. He had a dried cod stew. Jeff ordered it because it's a Genoese specialty, but found it "serviceable," although the olives were tasty. My "cioppin" seafood soup was very tasty - especially the mussels and the giant shrimp. Overall, if the various dishes in our meal had been in a gladiator fight, the cheese plate and my pesto pasta would have been the victors.

We were too stuffed for dessert, but I am baking a pumpkin pie tonight. Hopefully it will turn out, the oven does not have a working temperature gauge... Happy Thanksgiving!

In Genoa, In Small, Girly Room

I have arrived safely in Genoa. Jeff met me in the oldest, most 1970s style airport I've ever seen. Although I noticed two men in military dress just standing around, I otherwise noted no security and just walked off the plane, grabbed my luggage, and lo and behold, I was in Italy.

On the flight from Munich to Genoa, Lufthansa had passed us off to some low budget regional Italian airline called Air Massimo or Dolmathes (?) or something. The flight attendants were twenty-something Italians with bleach blond hair, lots of makeup, and polyester teal skirt suits. The suits were something else. Although the flight attendant spoke English to the portly British gentleman seated in front of me, she seemed to insist on speaking Italian to me, despite the fact that I answered in English or with "gratze" - assuming that meant thank you. I guess I look Italian, despite not having bleach blond hair or sporting a polyester suit.

As for other fashion observations, most men on my flight wore suits. I don't know whether this is something I can generalize about all Italian men, or if I was just flying with primarily business dudes. Also, there seems to be a real trend among these men to wear scarves with vertical stripes - knitted lengthwise - instead of horizontal stripes. I hope that Mr. Misfit is not feeling too gauche with his awesome , horizontally striped, fibonacci scarf around here.

Regarding the title of this post, Mr. Misfit shares his apartment with four young Italian college students. I met the youngest two, who speak no English, this afternoon. They are quite adorable and named Carola and Carolina. So far I cannot tell them apart, but they are very sweet. While I was washing lunch dishes we were somehow able to communicate the fact that Carol(in)a was going to take a shower so the bathroom would be occupied. I suppose the shower may get crowded with six people in the apartment so I'll have to ask Jeff how to communicate the same thing later on. Before Senor Jeff moved in, another girl, who, judging from the decor, had a penchant for dance movies (Grease, Dirty Dancing and "Strictly Come Dancercize*") and cats, lived here. Now we are living here, and it is pretty hilarious so far.

Now that I've slept twelve hours, had some lunch with Jeff and Ben, and Jeff is at the archives for the release of some website compiling 13th century stuff, after I finish blogging I will read and knit until Jeff comes home. Then I think I'll see some of Genoa, eat dinner, and sleep again. More adventures to come when I acclimate to the time difference. Should I get bored while Jeff is archiving it up, I may just report on this Dancersize video...

Reflections on Munich

So, if I were Sarah Palin, I would talk about my vast experience in Germany based on the 4 hour layover I am spending here in Munich. Instead of claiming that level of foreign policy experience, I will share the following observations about Deutschland. From them I will likely make sweeping generalizations about Germans and Germany:

1. The airport is oddly quiet. Despite having marble/hardwood floors, everyone is hushed and civil. Germans are quiet (but seemingly talk fast). One notable exception is the young couple sitting behind me who recently broke into song. It was peppy, pop-music, no Uber Alles, in case you were curious.
2. The Internet speaks German. Germans speak German. QED.
3. Various cigarette makers sponsor "Smoking Zones" - which are like stationary revolving doors in which people stand around and puff away. So far, Camel seems to be the most popular sponsor of these cubicles.
4. Instead of the paper public toilet seat covers so prevalent in California (and oddly not found in the Midwest), German toilets have sanitizer that you're supposed to spray on toilet paper and use to wipe down the seat. I find this strangely intrusive - perhaps "too" clean. Also, the toilet paper comes in sheets, not in rolls, and each toilet has a brush sitting to the right side of the bowl. This overacheiving cleanliness somehow also strikes me as foul. I shudder to think at all the germs crawling on those brushes. Germany is, perhaps, not as clean as you would think.
5. There is not a drinking fountain to be found in this place. Has Germany no public water fountains?? I should write to Angela Merkel about this outrage.
6. Janitors ride Segways!!!

Ciao Spaghetti!

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go, I'm just waiting around for (not so) Super Shuttle to come pick me up and take me to SFO. According to Blogger, this is my 101st post on this piece of interweb terrain and it will be my last in the US of A for a month.

To help me remember my journeys, I hope to post something on here most days, internet access permitting. To fulfill requests, expect photos of food and reviews of the pasta and gelato I consume. Depending on how things pan out, I may start a contest among the readership of "For God and Cheese" to see who can come closest to guessing the number of pounds that I gain as a result of being in Italy. It remains to be seen whether I'll actually want to divulge that information.

I'm sure I'll also have adventures to report from old churches, hikes, cafes, Pompeii, a famous ossuary, old churches, museums, and more old churches. To fulfill another request, I'll also write a bit about my attempt to learn Spanish, while in Italy and the Czech Republic. This should be interesante and might be ill-advised. In addition to my language studies and copious eating I also plan to knit like the wind for all the babies that my friends and family will soon be bringing into the world. Perhaps by the time I return I will also absorb a bit of Italian and will be able to say more than the title of this post.

There Should Really be a Word for That...

Well, it's been a packed couple of weeks since I last posted. The bruises from my experience as a rice bowl have finally faded and I've purchased rain boots to never again repeat the disgusting soaked sneakers feeling of the 2008 Chinese NY Parade. Since I last wrote, my parents also paid me a visit during which we had several fun and exciting adventures, my dear friend from law school came to town and we also had a blast, I went on one of the best hikes of my life, I learned a little something about computer forensic investigations, and I purchased a suh-weet cupcake carrier. I will never again lug around a heavy baking dish on MUNI which permits the cupcakes I baked to slide around, thus smooshing their frosting. Now, my cupcakes will be secure in a high-tech cupcake carrier with a handle. Fierce.

I might write about some or all of those things in more detail at a later date, but for now I want to put together the first of what might be a series of "regularly" or "sporadically" occurring entries. This feature, known around "For God and For Cheese" as, "There should really be a word for that..." will expound on a concept or phenomenon which no single word currently describes. Readers, feel free to offer suggestions for succinct words to describe these phenomena if you wish.

The debut entry in this category actually comes from two of my pals who explained this to me recently. Picture this: upon returning to bed at night, after getting up from sleeping to get a drink of water or take a whizz, when you return to bed you flip the pillow upon which you have been sleeping over. The reverse side of the pillow is cool and inviting.*

There should really be a word for that, the cool side of the pillow. "Chillow?"

* Note: the "chillow," if you will, is not always inviting. When it's cold out, for example, in the dead of winter in a crappy student apartment in Hyde Park, the "chillow" is detested and avoided at all costs.